Alexia's Reason
by Phoenix-KaZ
Summary: A semi-serious fic detailing the REAL reason Alexia wouldn't hand T-Veronica over to Wesker. 3-shot. Maybe more...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Wow, my first drama. Anyway, since I have finally finished typing this stor****y into my laptop, I figure it's time to share it! Writing Alexia's character is interesting! For the record, I'm writing the original Code: Veronica Alexia, not the creepy, messed-up Darkside Chronicles Alexia. I hope I'm not messing up her characterization, but Capcom doesn't tell much about her childhood, so I took a few liberties.  
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**What's going on in my life? I got RE: Revelations! XD** **It is absolutely amazing! I urge anyone with a 3DS to get it!**

**I've been working on the thirteenth chapter of UCSH, if anyone's wondering. I've got a bunch of ideas stockpiled for Wesker's Angels, but I'm kinda stuck on one scene. While I work on that, I'll post chapters of this new story when needed.** **Keep in mind, this story is going to be a three-shot, so it'll be pretty short.**

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own Resident Evil and its characters; Capcom does. I also don't own the song lyrics below.** **That would be **** someone else.**

"_Don't you mess with a little girl's dream,_

_cause she's liable to grow up mean." –Poe, Control_

I was in love.

It all started when I was ten years of age. I was always first in my class at the University. My older colleagues were always left dumbfounded in response to my performance and research, gaping like codfish. The professors followed them, grasping the wake of my studies hoping to build onto their own research like hounds that have caught the scent of an elusive hare. Despite their pleas, I vowed to keep my research to myself; I could never allow these imbeciles to even touch my opus, the Veronica virus, otherwise it would be ruined beyond purpose .

So instead of submitting my precious Veronica virus, I turned in my research on another deadly virus: Ebola. After a week of anticipation, my final paper was returned to me. The professor had marked all of my project's flaws in ugly red ink. Sure, I was preoccupied with Veronica while I wrote it, but this could not be possible! How could I have overlooked so many mistakes? I reread my paper several times, glaring at the crimson number "99" at the top of my essay, but the professor was correct.

I set my paper on the table in front of me and cast my gaze on the other students occupying the lecture room. I decided to take this little failure in stride for now as I continued my work on Veronica.

As I observed my classmates brutally harangue themselves over their own grades, one of them proved to be an exception. One of the young men sitting below me (I was seated in the top row; I enjoyed being able to see everything.) had earned full marks on his research. I was astounded! This class was held to the highest standard. Unless this student was a young prodigy, (like myself,) it was nearly impossible to achieve such a perfect score. I needed to learn more about him.

I was unable to see the content of his research from my position, but the young man's name was visible on the paper: Albert Wesker. "He is just as smart as I am," I realized as he stood up and prepared to leave. From that point on I would be lying if I didn't say I admired him. (And a queen never lies, even to herself.)

For days, I would watch him as we passed each other in the halls of the university, but I couldn't pick up the courage to talk to him, and my observations did not provide enough insight about Wesker for the purpose of personal analysis. I would have to gather information through other channels. "Butler," I ordered as I stepped into the limousine that picked me up from school everyday, "I want you to find information on a Mr. Albert Wesker and report back to me."

"Of course, Miss Ashford."

Later in the evening, after playing with Alfred and discussing business with father, I was able to set aside some time to write in my diary. It was the only gift Alfred and father could agree on, both saying "A lady needs a place to collect her thoughts." I had accepted the gift willingly, using the journal to record milestones in my research outside the laboratory as well as keeping notes on other trivial events. I opened the purple-covered book and began to write. "Dear diary, " I wrote in neat, tidy cursive, " An uncommon occurrence happened today at the University: one of my classmates surpassed my score on our final essay! I don't know very much about this person, except for his name: Albert Wesker. I have asked Butler to obtain information about him for me to look over." As I wrote, my feelings toward Albert Wesker exponentially grew into an attraction, dare I say.

The next time I saw Albert Wesker, he was walking with a William Birkin, an underclassman he usually worked with. I immediately felt strife erupt in my heart. It was the same William Birkin who had teased me horrendously about my age and small stature on the first day of the new term. Because of this treatment, I had developed a grudge against the gangly freshman, but the events of today deepened that grudge, turning it into unadulterated rivalry.

As I followed after Wesker, Birkin turned his head and noticed my eyes linger on Wesker. "Hey Al," Birkin snickered, "It looks like somebody has a crush on you." My face flushed bright pink, and I froze when Wesker turned and spoke to me.

"I don't have the time or patience to play your little game, Miss Ashford," Albert stated coldly. My face fell in disappointment. "I'll see you in class." And just like that, he turned around and walked away.

I spent the evening sulking in the bedroom that Alfred and I shared, sitting on my bedspread and clutching a pillow to my chest. "What happened, Alexia?" my brother asked in an attempt to comfort me as he stood next to my bed.

"That fool, Birkin, embarrassed me," I spat harshly, "I have been utterly humiliated, Alfred."

"Again?" Alfred asked incredulously, "I have an idea to cheer you up, Alexia." I loosened my grip on the pillow and listened to Alfred's plan intently, meeting the idea with approval. For the idiot my brother could sometimes be, he did produce some decent ideas. "We'll do it tonight," he said, "Bring Veronica."

Late that night, Alfred and I snuck out of our beds and into father's study. The old buffoon had fallen asleep in his armchair, as expected. Alfred had armed himself with a straitjacket and advanced towards our sleeping father. Alfred and I carefully maneuvered his arms into the straitjacket before tying the laces in the back. "Thank goodness father is a heavy sleeper," I whispered as I stuck a syringe containing T-Veronica into his neck and pushed the plunger downward. "It is done. We'll move him to the Antarctic base when I take control."

News spread fast within the household. Alfred and I put on a dramatic performance upon hearing of our father's "death". A formal funeral was held two days later, wherein I was announced as father's successor at Umbrella. From the information that Butler was able to provide about Albert Wesker, it appeared that Wesker was slated to enter Umbrella as one of the Head Researchers for his department once.

And thus my admiration for him was reborn.

**AN: You guys know the drill! Review/Favorite/Alert! Preferably all three!**

**AN #2: I just did some editing here and there. I couldn't fix a couple of details to mesh with the canon timeline, otherwise it would mess up my story. I'm afraid I'll just have to live with it or rewrite this chapter later. :(  
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	2. Chapter 2

After hours of intense study in the Umbrella labs, I had drastically improved the Veronica virus. The strain I had infected father with had been weak and transformed him into an abomination, this new variant would be much more useful. All I needed was a message to send with it. "A love poem is proper decorum," I thought as I attempted to release my emotions on the rose-scented stationary, "But where do I start?" This was discomforting; within five minutes, my muse had run out.

At some indeterminable point, Alfred wandered into the room, passing my desk in silence as I worked; He knew better than to disturb me when I was a deep state of concentration. His presence did not go unnoticed by me as he sat at his own desk to start on his own homework when I spoke up. "Alfred," I asked, swallowing my pride as the smarter sibling, "Would you kindly do your sister a favor?" Alfred's movements halted immediately, pen carefully poised over his assignment.

"What sort of favor, Alexia?" he asked nervously; he had seen what had been done to my animal test subjects when I injected them with numerous variations of T-Veronica.

I sighed quietly" in mild annoyance; Alfred could be so paranoid sometimes. Then again, he does live with me, after all. "I require your assistance and guidance. I have attempted to compose a piece of romantic poetry and I must admit I am not having very much luck," I explained, turning around to lean on the back of my chair, pouting my lip outward in emphasis, "Will you please help me Alfred?"

Sure enough, Alfred darted toward my desk like a lovesick puppy, true to my hypothesis. "Of course I will, sister," he replied with bright eyes and an eager tone in his voice, "May I ask who the recipient of the poem is?"

I responded to his question with a calm smile, considering how to word my next sentence carefully. I had no choice but to be vague; Alfred would become jealously protective if I told him who the intended receiver of my affections was. "Let's see, I'd have to describe him as tall, blond, blue eyes, intelligent, and very handsome, I believe," I sighed, watching Alfred attempt to hide a beaming expression from the corned of my eye, "I care about him very, very much."

It took a few seconds for Alfred to realize how childish he was acting and collect himself. "Let's see what you have written so far," he said as he leaned over to read what I had composed, " 'Roses are red, corpses are blue ' . . . Alexia, I do believe you not are going about this properly, if I may judge. Let me offer an alternative." Alfred then proceeded to wax poetic and quote pieces that he had read in one of his English classes. I know this because he enlisted me to help him memorize one of the aforementioned poems. Nonetheless, I took Alfred's suggestions to heart and started over. By the end of the evening, I had created a masterpiece.

I placed the letter alongside a sample of the T-Veronica virus in an envelope with Albert's name written on the back and sealed with the Ashford crest. I had an assistant deliver my message to Wesker during the mandatory lunch hour all head scientists were given, to provide a break from their projects. From the far side of the lunch hall, I observed as Wesker arrived at his table and read my note several times (,at least, that's what I assumed he was doing, given the fact that he wears those sunglasses around the clock,) before examining the sample of T-Veronica I had given to him. My heart rate rose dramatically as Albert analyzed my work. Near the end of the lunch hour, Wesker finally stood up from his table. My heart rhythm became distinctly irregular as he moved toward the door, carrying my letter and the sample with him.

And then he broke my heart.

Right before he left the room, Wesker tossed my letter AND the sample I had worked so hard to create in the waste bin! Like my affections were worth nothing more than common refuse! My stomach churned violently in shock, and I locked myself in my office until Butler arrived on Alfred's behalf to escort me home. I had unknowingly stayed at the labs too long and missed supper.

When I was returned back to Ashford Manor, I sequestered myself in my bedroom and wept into my pillow. I barely noticed Alfred enter through the secret passage I had ordered to be built when Alfred moved into a separate bedroom. (A queen needs her privacy!)

"Sister, what is troubling you?" he asked with the utmost concern, "You never came home, so I sent Butler to pick you up from your labs."

I continued weeping. "My letter . . . he threw it away like it was a worthless piece of GARBAGE!" I cried, trying my hardest to keep from stuttering.

"Alexia!" Alfred exclaimed, running to my side and stooping at the edge of the bed, "How is that possible? Who could have done such a thing?"

I shook my head from the confines of my pillow. "I don't know," I replied somberly, "I have been shamed, Alfred! I cannot show my face at Umbrella while HE is there!" I paused to take a calming breath. "I've already made arrangements to transfer to Umbrella's Antarctic facility."

Alfred pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to me. "But, why?" he questioned with a curious expression on his visage.

"There is something I need to do," I explained as I dried my eyes, "And Antarctica is the best place to do it." The next day, I ordered the household staff to pack the things I would need for my "transfer". The task would draw their eyes away from my more personal labors.

But my brother would not be fooled so easily.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey readers. Just thought I'd post this for you to finish this story up. I know it's been a while since I posted anything, but JediSpartan217 has been cracking the whip to get me working on my other story, UCSH. Not that I'm complaining and slacking off; it's a really big chapter! I haven't had much time to work on side projects either. I'm at a writer's block on Wesker's Angels as well. So here you go**.

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own Resident** **Evil, or any of its characters; those belong to Capcom.**

Alfred entered my personal lab just as I finished preparing a syringe full of the latest variation of the T-Veronica virus. "Alexia!" he asked with wide, alarmed eyes, "What are you doing?"

I set the syringe on the table in front of me before taking an alcohol-soaked piece of cotton to disinfect my arm. "I'm going to use myself as a human test subject. I have no choice. If I go back to Umbrella, everyone shall see my shame," I explained calmly, restraining the tears that welled up in my eyes. If they were to fall, it would reveal weakness.

"But, why are you doing this, Alexia?" Alfred pressed, struck dumb in his position by the door.

I sighed, blinking back tears as I rubbed the tuft of cotton on my outer arm. "I already answered that question Alfred," I replied as goose pimples rose on my skin, chilled by the cool air of the lab. "However, T-Veronica is still slightly unstable, but I have found a method to remedy that. It requires sealing myself in cryogenic stasis. Fifteen years should allow the virus to mature while it is inside my body."

I looked over at Alfred to see tears brimming in his eyes. "Do you have to do this to yourself?" he pleaded, "There are more than enough test subjects-"

"I created T-Veronica, Alfred. It is as much my right to test it on any willing subject, including myself, as I see fit," I retorted, explaining my reasons with sound logic as I discarded the cotton ball and raised the needle to my bare arm. "Besides, how can there be progress without personal sacrifice? This is what must be done." I barely felt the needle's pinch; like my emotions, the rest of me was comfortably numb.

I set the timer on the stasis container for exactly fifteen years. Upon verification, I stepped into the cylindrical chamber and turned to my brother with one last comforting smile; I couldn't leave without saying good-bye to him, of course. "Don't worry," I reassured him, "You'll see me again." The glass door slid shut in front of me as I waved 'Good-bye' and felt the chamber grow cold. I allowed myself to close my eyes, trusting that Alfred would follow the directions that I had left for him. Comforted by this knowledge, I slipped into unconsciousness and began to dream.

But I woke up to a nightmare.

I emerged from my icy cocoon in Antarctica fifteen years later like I wished, only to find a much older Alfred on his knees and bleeding heavily through his red jacket. Our eyes met, and he reached upward to me, uttering my name one last time before he collapsed. As my brother passed on, I located his killers escaping the facility and incapacitated them with my new powers, courtesy of Veronica.

My thirst for vengeance would be whet in time, but there was one more rat to eliminate before I could carry out the revenge those meddling children had earned by murdering the one member of my kin that I cared about enough to love. _He _had entered my kingdom.

I found some suitable clothes and chose to wait in the front foyer, at the top of the stairs. And sure enough, he made himself known: the one and only Albert Wesker. Upon his arrival, I couldn't help but laugh. I already knew why he was here, and he was a fool.

The blue eyes that I had fallen in love with as a child were gone.

"At last, I've found you Alexia," Albert declared, "Come with me!"

Despite the situation, I laughed at him again. Was this supposed to be his idea of a joke? Nevertheless, his mediocre efforts didn't fail to entertain.

"You're responsible for the creation of the T-Veronica virus," Wesker explained, slowly walking up the first few stairs, "And now the only existing sample lies within your body." The tyrant's flame-like eyes locked with mine. "I want it! Now!" he demanded, holding his palm outstretched expectantly.

At that last sentence, all of the shame I had felt since he had refused me fanned to an inferno of bitter, hateful resentment; he had his chance at Veronica long ago. "You want it?" I mocked, "You are not worthy of its power!" I knew just what to do with him. If he wanted Veronica, then who better than the creator of the virus to give a demonstration. Glaring down malevolently, I proceeded down the stairs towards him. Warmth enveloped my body as Veronica began her work. Pieces of my old, human skin fell away as I became the queen I had always dreamed of: beautiful and deadly.

Wesker stepped back in awe as I stopped at his eye level. In one swift, fluid movement, my arm shot up and deftly slapped Wesker across the face. He spun backwards through the air, landing on his feet below. I jumped after him, landing much more gracefully than him as he dodged into one corner of the room. "You're coming with me," he promised.

My blood boiled into fire, eager to attack; payback time was nigh.

**AN: There you go. It's the end. It's also the first time I've finished a fanfic. By reviewer interest, I might write some light-hearted, bonus scenes that would have slowed down the plotline of this story if I posted them as real chapters. I already have a few ideas, so tell me if you're interested!**

**As always, reviews are appreciated!**


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